


The Lost Treasure of Ice

by MxVampirePunk



Series: A Tale of Wind and Ice [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Asia Dragons, Blood and Injury, Creature!Tony Stark, Dragon Tony Stark, Dragon!Tony Stark, Frost Giant!Loki, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Jotunn | Frost Giant, M/M, Mythology References, Past Tense, References to Myths, Serpent!Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 12:56:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16854367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MxVampirePunk/pseuds/MxVampirePunk
Summary: Tony would have preferred to stay curled up and bathe in the sun, but it seemed there was other plans for the day; someone didn't want to deal with the stranger in their lands.That was ok though, Tony would stake his claim first and get that favour later.





	The Lost Treasure of Ice

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo I mean, it was coming, me writing a dragon fic while studying dragons for my dissertation and annoying the group to no end with my random dragon facts!
> 
> Beta: [switchknitter ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/switchknitter/pseuds/switchknitter), who I thank many times, for letting me rant and asking questions while working on this, on top of the re-reading it many times!

Tony curled into himself, covering his face with a red and gold tail, each scale reflecting the sunlight that broke through the forest roof. He rubbed his cheek against an arm, rumbling in the morning rays, tail still covering closed eyes.

There was a thump. Tony peered out, letting his tail slip lower to blink at where the noise came from. There was a fox, black, with patches of dark brown and soft white, staring at him. It padded forward, sniffing the ground.

Tony huffed, amusement making him rumble as the creature skidded back and looked at him with perked ears. It braced itself, ears flickering, and they held each other in a stare. Blue eyes against golden-brown. He let it watch him for a moment, letting it admire him for longer; red scales that glistened gold, the odd colour of red-brown ‘fur’ that ran along his head to his tail, with dark red claws and horns. His soft underbelly was hidden within his curling; that was a soft blue-grey, deepening in colour as it reached his chest in a pattern that was unique to himself.

Tony uncurled himself; his tail swayed away, and the fox made a sharp high-pitched nose before jumping backwards and disappearing back into the undergrowth. He licked his teeth in amusement and stretched out his limbs. He flexed the claws on his front legs and then wiggled out his two back legs. He shook his head.

Overhead a bird chirped. Tony slipped through the treeline, leaving the small overgrown area that he had chosen to sleep in the night before, and followed the scent of the fox along an invisible path. There must have been a reason Ōkami woke him up. His long serpent body slipped easily between the branches and bushes; he jumped up onto a stone in a pathway and sniffed the air, half of his body floating behind him as he kept two front feet on the stone. He blinked in the sunlight as the air breezed past him and the scent changed.

He leapt from the stone, stepping in the air and trotting along a tree branch, before he fell to the floor and raced forward. He took a breathe. _Ice, pain, blood, heat, fire, unknown-- unknown-- magic._ Someone new, his mind supplied as he slowed to a quiet pace as he reached the open land. He could smell the sea from where he slipped in and out the treeline, closing in on the new presence he had smelled.

If he was human, all he would be able to see from his spot would be black and blue against the gravel and grass; but for a dragon, he could see a figure, slipping on the loose earth beneath them and could hear the short puffs of breath. Tony glanced back to the thick forest. _You owe me,_ he mumbled with a glare at a flash of white fur within the brushes.

Then he stalked forward. The closer he got the more he could see the person. He was guessing when he thought the smell was not of this world, but now, seeing the blue skinned person decorated in armour not from his region, his suspicions were confirmed. The blue skin was a beautiful dark shade with lighter ridges that were patterned across the skin, like a dance; it reminded him of the tidal jewels he sometimes guarded, how they shimmered with lighter colours, so small yet so powerful. And this one, with armour of leather and metal and _ice,_ this one was a powerful thing. He could taste it clear now: the taste of ice, with the sharp tingle of electricity and the soothing of embers. He could feel it hum around them, and it tickled his ears. It was gathered around the little mage. _Mage,_ that was the word the humans would use, a sapphire mage.

He was close now. Close enough to see how the ground had turned darker around the person as each moment passed. Tony’s nostrils flared as he was hit with the smell of rich otherworldly blood. The scent made him flinch.

The movement caught the attention of the other. The being jolted, a hiss forced between their lips, and with a sharp movement they were on their backs, a hand on one side and a knife in the other. Tony knew if the other was stronger they would have stood, but he praised them silently on their defense. They snapped their head to Tony and froze.

He didn’t move, letting the little mage run their very red eyes up and down his form. With them on the ground and him on all fours, he was towering the other. He sat. His longer body slipped under him, so that his lower legs were shielded by his tail and his upper body was lowered to the ground. He kept his front legs up to support his torso as he ducked his head to shorten the distance between their heights.

They stared at one another. The grip on the knife loosened. Tony didn’t let that fool him.

The mage was clutching their side, where a deep wound ran from their outer thigh to their shoulder. Flesh and metal clung to the blood that was splattered along their side. They had lost parts of their clothing and armour, and their arm was held at an awkward angle even as they used it to hug themselves. He couldn't guess how much pain it must be in to keep themselves up for that long, but Tony knew the blood loss was getting to them. Though, Tony’s tongue flickered out, the spatter of dark blood across their cheek was beautiful against the blue. The person watched his tongue but made no movements. There was half a helmet on their head. It slid off to the side, black locks falling over their face and shoulders at the lack of restrictions.

Through the blood and dirt and ice, Tony could see what they might have looked like before. It would have been a pretty sight to see, he thought, as he looked over the little mage again. Their clothes must have been grey and black, leggings, an undervest, and separate sleeves; a deep blue overlayer, like the gaps between the stars, that fell over the backs of their legs like half a skirt and wrapped around their stomach to be tied at their shoulders. It lay over the glimpses of thick leather that covered the chest (and back, if Tony guessed right about it being a tunic) and covered their thighs. They wore dark, almost black, metallic boots, stopping below the knees, with embedded patterns of ice. This same metal sat around their wrists and waist, integrated into the belt and leather gauntlets. The armour, he would call it, the armour as it was set against the outfit a tad lighter, bright, reflecting a blue and green tint; it lay over arms, chest, legs, and head. Tony would almost say the head armour looked like a crown, curling up along the-- ah, _horns_ , smaller than his own; Tony rumbled in excitement at the new discovery.

The being flinched and held their dagger harder, he could see the pale blue that leaked through at the pressure, and pushed away with shaking legs, even though it caused them pain. They were gritting their teeth, hard enough for the two fangs to dig into their lower lip and draw more blood. Tony lowered himself again, if he had to play this the hard way, then so be it; he was a patient creature. The person got a few kicks away before a breath heaved out of them and they stopped, panting and watching Tony. There was a clink as they hugged into their wounds and parts of metal hit metal..

“Come to watch me die, beast?” It hissed at him, nose scrunching as they held their knife a little higher, as if to prove themselves. They even raised their chin in challenge. Tony grumbled and rolled his eyes, he knew the words weren’t spoken in his tongue or the humans’ he knew, but being restricted to this world, physical or not, was never a problem and _that_ came with bonuses.

He gave a little growl, and then the wind picked up and he curled into himself, head disappearing under scales. Red, gold, scales, red-brown, fur, deep red, golden-brown, blue, blue, blue; it all merged, and tumbled together until Tony could stand on two legs. There was a gasp, but he ignored it in favor of stretching his hand over his head. He rubbed one of his pointed ears, and yawned.

Normally he would have worn a simple kimono or hakama, but there was a lot of blood and he didn’t want to ruin his nice clothing, so instead he was wearing a blue top, with blood red cloth wrapped over one shoulder and tied to his stomach with a golden rope. It covered his legs in a skirt, and he was barefooted. There was a soft glow from his chest, which softened when he made it dim, a reminder of his soft underbelly even in this form. He shivered, heavens he was fleshy and soft. Other than the ears, unusual appearance (he didn’t look like the humans here) and the glow in his eyes, he could easily be mistaken for a human.

“You’re a rude thing, aren’t you?” Tony rumbled in the creature's language, looking at the person on the floor through narrowed eyes. He brushed his top down, the glowing gone, and glanced at the person with an arched brow.

“You…” The being swallowed, knife lowering in a shaky grip.

Tony was almost amused at the thing. He smiled, sharp, and stepped forward. The mage made no attempt to move away. They were tense still, but even with a foot between them, Tony could see they weren’t going to launch themselves forward. His smile turned into a grin, wide and proud, stretching his cheeks, and he purred, lowering himself to the ground. The ends of his clothing sunk into the blackened blood. The person leaned away, breath held.

“Hurt, little one?” He moved his hand slowly, towards the injured side.

“Don’t touch me!”

Tony stopped, keeping his hand were it was; he watched as the person’s chest heaved and their grip on their knife slipped. He watched lazily as the knife cluttered against the broken armour by their leg to disappear into the black pool of blood.

Tony stayed silent. The other’s eyes flickered across his face, back and forth between his clothing -- at one point they even looked down to Tony’s feet -- before snapping their head up and staring again. They swayed slightly, dropping their hand to support themselves further; no longer able to clutch a dagger.

“...Yes.” It was quiet, reluctant, but an answer nonetheless. One that Tony took greedily.

He carefully moved onto his knees, hand reaching across to touch fingertips to the edge of the wound. There was a sharp intake of breath: surprised, not pained. Tony was glad. He dropped his hand to cover the blue one and gave it a small testing tug. The grip tightened, then loosened, and Tony pulled their hand away. It was cold to touch, the bare skin, but Tony could be colder that he was; enough to bear the ice at least.

“You are a dragon,” the being breathed..

“You have those too, little mage?”

They huffed, “You are far littler than me.” As an afterthought, “Like this.”

Tony glanced up. Oh that was right, like this, if they had stood, the blue mage would be taller than him. He hummed, then paused. The person had tilted their head away and looked…

“You have creatures as well,” He didn’t move, “Dragons?”

They swallowed. “Yes… I know of, a few... “

“But?”

“I know of one who slain your kind, many of those who breathed fire, red, like you.”

Tony stared at them. “No.” Then went back to his work; he could only heal so much, the rest he would have to take the little sapphire back for.

“No?”

He hummed in agreement, “No, dragons are such a large classification. Many cultures, races, have them. You have not slain any of _my_ kind.” He pushed and pulled the other’s top over the wound as a makeshift bandage; there was a hiss of pain, but he simply wound it tighter. “Besides, fire isn’t our… ‘thing’ here.” He gave the makeshift bandage another tug, hiding his smile at another hiss of pain that followed with a flick of his tongue.

When Tony looked up again, eyes a slight glow, he smiled at the mage, a sharp deadly thing, a warning. The blue one blinked, and looked as if to move away, but something stopped them.

“Loki.”

“It that the dragon you killed?”

“Wh-- No, I am Loki.”

Tony smiled a little softer, he rocked on his heels, and tipped his head to one side. “Loki,” he purred, yes, that was it, “Loki the little mage.”

Loki’s face twisted in annoyance, though they made no attempt to correct him, just frowning instead.

“The one with blue and red, such a pretty person.”

“He.” Loki was still frowning, a scowl that was turning into a glare.

Tony gave a sharp nod, switching immediately. “He who is injured and lost?”

Loki looked away. As if it was some challenge to take, he sat up straighter and seemed to attempt to get up. Tony leaned forward, and pressed close with a warning growl when the movement caused the mage to sway -- right into Tony.

Tony happily took the weight. He shifted them, until he was holding Loki better. There was a grumble, but Loki actually relaxed into the contact. Maybe he was starting to realize this wasn’t going to end badly. Or, at least, not the way Loki had thought. Perhaps the little mage knew that escaping wherever he had been would be worse than the now, that Tony would have killed him before if this encounter was going to end in death. Tony rumbled in amusement; under the rumble there was a sigh he just managed to pick up--his hearing still better than humans, even if not as good as in his real form--Tony felt more weight sink into him.

“Hmmm, I think I’ll keep you.” Tony grinned, letting his fangs slip over his teeth. He licked his lips and purred as he watched Loki watch him.

Then Tony slipped an arm under Loki’s legs, and behind his back, and hoisted the blue being gently into his arms as he stood. There was a sound of pain, but the mage didn’t fight at all; he simply allowed the readjustment. Tony knew he was being allowed. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that this would be a lot harder, and a lot bloodier, if Loki didn’t want this. And _oh_ wasn’t that a thought.

Loki leaned with a heavy breath into Tony’s chest, his cold breath tickling Tony’s soft skin where blue scales would have been. A blue that would have looked lovely against the darker shade of his little mage. Another time, Tony promised himself, as he nuzzled the dark hair against his shoulder, breathing in the soothing smell of calm and ice and magic and _Loki_. There was shaky breath before Loki went lax against him, and Tony could feel the thump of his heart slow into sleep. He grinned into the cool skin, licking at the cut beside one eye, both to heal and to lap up the blood that ran down paling skin.

“Oh I am keeping you, my sapphire Mage.”

My little prince of ice, so nice against the cool rain and judgmental wind.

**Author's Note:**

> Andddddd many thanks to everyone in the frostiron group!  
> Those who replied to my dragon rambles, who jumped on Dragon!Tony (soft spot people!), and pocked at this idea until I just. did. the. thing.
> 
> You know who you are! (I'm not kidding, you do know who, there's too many to tag guys)


End file.
